by Anne Schraff
“He’s a liar, Mom. He ain’t nothin’ but a liar,” Cindy insisted.
“You tell me the truth, girl. You look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t hang up the phone on him,” her mother demanded.
“Okay, yeah, I did,” Cindy admitted, throwing down the magazine. “But where does he get off calling me ugly all the time? You don’t hear the stuff he says to me behind your back. He disses me big time, Mom. How come it’s okay for him to do that?” Cindy glared at her mother, fighting to keep back tears of anger and hurt.
“Aw baby, he don’t mean nothing when he talks like that. He’s just playing. It’s a bad habit he got from the street. Don’t you know that by now? He’s just like a little boy who likes to tease all the girls, that’s all,” her mother explained.
Cindy did not want to excuse Raffie’s behavior, but her mother’s words calmed her. “Well, I’m sorry I hung up on him, but he better be sorry for callin’ me names too,” she said.
“Come ’ere, baby,” Mom said, “I’ve got something for you. ” Digging in her purse, she fished out two shiny tubes of lipstick. “I picked these up today at the drugstore, and one’s for you. What do you think of this color?” Cindy took the offered lipstick and put it on.
“It’s nice, Mom,” she said, glancing in her mother’s compact mirror. “Thanks. ”
Her mother smiled and gave her a hug. “Baby, there’s TV dinners in the fridge. There’s beef stew and oriental chicken. I’m gonna change and go out for a little while. You don’t mind, do you?”
“It don’t matter anyway,” Cindy mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.
“What did you say?” her mother asked, turning around quickly.
“Nothing. I didn’t say nothing,” she lied.
Cindy was disappointed. She had hoped her mother might stay home for dinner, and then they could watch TV or rent a movie. Cindy thought they might even make popcorn after dinner and talk. It had been so long since they had spent time together. Since Mom and Raffie started dating, Cindy often spent evenings alone in the apartment. Nights were the worst. Theo and Cleo were there, but what she longed to hear most was another voice.
“Uh, why don’t you ask a girlfriend over, baby?” Mom said, seeming to sense Cindy’s sadness. “Maybe Jamee or Amberlynn could come over. Y’all always have fun together. ”
“They don’t want to come over here to this messy place,” Cindy said bitterly.
“Cindy, don’t talk like that. Just because there’s a little dust on the furniture doesn’t mean we’re not as good as the Willses and the Baileys. I won’t be that late tonight, baby. Now come on and give me a smile. ”
Cindy turned away, and her mother let her go. Cindy heard her walk down the hallway to the bathroom. Soon she heard the shower turn on. After that, Mom would dress up for her date. It was the same routine as on so many other nights. All her mother ever did anymore was spend time with Raffie.
“Do I look all right, Cindy?” Mom asked, walking into the living room in a short black dress that showed off her long, shapely legs.
“Yeah, Mom,” Cindy answered, pretending not to pay attention. She thought her mother looked beautiful. She looked like Cindy knew she herself could never look, not with all the lipstick and pretty dresses in the world. “So what time you think you’ll be home?” Cindy asked.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Don’t wait up for me. Tomorrow’s a school day, and you can’t be missing any more days. ”
“Whatever,” Cindy mumbled.
“Call Jamee. I’m sure she’ll come over,” Mom said, clutching her purse. Seconds later, Cindy heard the apartment door close. Her mother was gone.
Overwhelmed by the silence in the apartment, Cindy decided to call Amberlynn.
“Amberlynn, I got popcorn and pizza and lots of soda, and there’s a good movie on TV. Why don’t you come over?” Cindy said.
“I can’t. I gotta baby-sit my brothers and the baby,” Amberlynn replied. “Plus, I gotta work on a science project. ”
“Oh, okay,” Cindy said, abruptly hanging up the telephone and calling Jamee. Though Jamee had scolded her early in the day, Cindy was sure she would still come over if she could. Last year, when they were both in middle school, Jamee had a lot of problems. First she got involved with an abusive guy from Bluford named Bobby Wallace, and then she ran away from home and nearly died in the process. During that whole time, Cindy had tried her best to support Jamee. Now Jamee always talked about someday returning the favor. Recently it seemed as if things with Jamee were better, while things in Cindy’s life kept getting worse. Once Cindy joked about needing Jamee to help her out, and Jamee said, “I got your back, Cindy. Remember that. ”
“Hi, Jamee,” Cindy said, glad Jamee answered the phone.
“Hey Cindy,” Jamee said cheerfully, “what’s up?”
“My mom is out tonight, and I was wondering if you want to come over and watch a movie with me. I got lots of popcorn and—”
“Girl, I’d come over if I could,” Jamee said, “but my dad got a raise at work, and we’re all goin’ out to celebrate. Mom made reservations at this fancy restaurant. We’re gettin’ dressed up and everything. Maybe next time?”
“Yeah,” Cindy responded sorely. She was jealous of Jamee. Sometimes Jamee complained about her family, but at least she had one. Sitting in her lonely apartment, Cindy would have traded places with Jamee in a heartbeat.
“Hey, are you coming to school tomorrow? I got so much to tell you. ”
“Yeah, I’m going,” Cindy said, but in her heart she doubted it. “’Night, Jamee. ”
Cindy hung up, and an emptiness descended on her like a thick, bleak fog. “Nobody is coming over, Theo,” Cindy said. The cat rolled over on the floor, yawned, and went to sleep.
Cindy debated if she should walk down to the sandwich shop at the corner. It was only 7:00, but after sunset, the neighborhood near her apartment could be dangerous, especially for someone walking alone.
Deciding to stay home, Cindy went to the fridge and found several TV dinners stacked in a corner of the half-empty freezer. She passed them up for an ice cream bar, returned to the recliner, and turned on the TV. A comedy was on about aliens who came to live on Earth.
Cindy felt like the aliens on the show, different from everyone around her. She had felt this way for years. When she was a young child, Cindy spent very little time with her mother. Years later, she learned Mom had been a drug addict. All Cindy remembered was that her mother would often stay locked in her bedroom for days. Whenever that happened, Aunt Shirley, Mom’s older sister, would come over to take care of Cindy. She looked forward to Aunt Shirley’s visits, even though it meant her mother would be unavailable for a while. Aunt Shirley made delicious apple-cinnamon cookies whenever she came over. “The Lord will see us through this, Cindy. Yes he will,” she would say as she baked. Often, Cindy would help with the cookies. Her favorite part was the batter, which Cindy liked to eat when Aunt Shirley was not looking.
Once, when Cindy was in elementary school, she stayed with Aunt Shirley for an entire summer, and Mom went into drug rehab. Cindy remembered that summer as her happiest. Each day she would go to the beach or the park with her aunt and play with the kids from the neighborhood. Then one day Mom took Cindy back, and for a while everything was great. Mom was drug-free and loving, and they were a real family. But when Cindy was twelve, Aunt Shirley got sick with breast cancer. Her health declined rapidly, and in a matter of months, she died.
Mom cried for days when Shirley died. Many months later, Mom sat Cindy down, confessed her former drug problems, and vowed she would never use drugs again. “I’m going to get you a better life, baby,” she had promised. Cindy remembered that conversation often as she sat in the lonely apartment. It was a special time in which she felt important to her mother—a feeling she no longer had.
Cindy noticed that their relationship began to change for the worse when her mother started dating. At first, Cindy thought her mother was happy to
be going out. But after several breakups, she became increasingly frustrated. “It ain’t right for a woman my age not to have herself a man,” she said one night, as she got ready to go out. At times, it seemed to Cindy that Mom was desperate. “I ain’t gettin’ any younger, Cindy. I don’t wanna be one of those women who end up livin’ alone, like some old maid,” she admitted after a particularly bad date.
Cindy tried to reassure her mother, but it seemed to her that Mom never listened. Instead, she would find another man. Once, she dated a guy named Eddie for a few months, but he turned out to be an alcoholic. Then she dated Steve, a married man who had five kids. Along the way, there were other men who were in the picture for such a short time that Cindy never got to know them. Then Raffie came along like a bad dream. Mom called him a “keeper” and said she was in love with him. She even admitted one night that she would like to marry him. The news sickened Cindy. She did not trust Raffie from the moment they met. A few times, she told her mother what she thought. But Mom always defended him.
“You never give Raffie a chance,” she insisted. “He’s a sweetheart. ” But as far as Cindy was concerned, there was nothing sweet about him. Ever since he arrived, Mom spent less time at home and paid less attention to Cindy. Even worse, Raffie could manipulate Mom into doing whatever he wanted. Sometimes Mom would cancel the rare plans she had with Cindy just to be with him. He doesn’t care one bit about anything but himself, Cindy thought. She could not imagine anything worse than him being her stepfather.
Leaning back in the recliner, Cindy wondered where her mother and Raffie were. She figured they probably ended up at some noisy nightclub. Mom was probably laughing as if she did not have a care in the world. The more she envisioned her mother having a good time, the sadder Cindy became. Tears welled in her eyes. Turning the TV off, she went into her bedroom and flopped onto the bed. “Someday, Mom, you’ll wish you didn’t leave me alone all night,” she murmured. “Someday you’ll know you made a big mistake. ” The bitter thoughts gave Cindy a kind of comfort, and she drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, Cindy went to the bathroom and threw cold water on her face. She heard her mother in the kitchen making coffee. Cindy thought about her classes at Bluford—history, algebra, and English—and all the missed assignments she would have to make up. There was just no way she could catch up, so she decided to stay home from school again.
“Good morning, baby,” Mom sang out cheerfully when Cindy arrived in the kitchen. “What kinda cereal do you want? I bought that variety pack you like, the one with all the little boxes. ”
Cindy chose a box of frosted corn flakes and dumped its contents into a bowl. Without a word, she poured milk onto the cereal. Grabbing her spoon, Cindy remembered how Aunt Shirley used to make homemade waffles with warm maple syrup. Everything tasted so much better when Aunt Shirley made it. She would sing gospel songs the entire time she was cooking.
“Raffie was so sweet last night. We had such a good time, Cindy,” her mother beamed. “By the way, he’s not mad at you anymore. ”
“Great,” Cindy said smugly.
Just then, Cindy heard a knock on the door. She got up to answer it, grateful to escape another conversation about Raffie. Cindy found Jamee at the door adjusting her backpack. “Cindy! What’re you doing in that old robe? It’s time to get dressed for school,” she cried.
“I’m not going to school today,” Cindy said. “I know I said I would, but I changed my mind. ”
Then Cindy’s mother stuck her head into the hallway and said, “Hi, Jamee. ”
“Mrs. Gibson, she has to go to school, doesn’t she? Make her go!” Jamee pleaded.
Cindy’s mother shrugged. “I keep tellin’ her if she don’t get an education, she’s gonna end up just like me, waitin’ tables for the rest of her life. But what am I supposed to do? I’m only a mother. Who listens to mothers anymore?” She sighed, as if she were commenting on a story she had heard on the evening news. “Good luck getting through to her, Jamee,” she said, heading back to the kitchen.
“Cindy, get dressed and come to school,” Jamee urged, tugging on Cindy’s arm. “You can still make it to school before the first bell. You wanna be like those kids who hang out at the corners watching the lights change from green to red?”
“I have tons of work to make up. There’s no way I can do it,” Cindy wailed.
“Yes you can. The English project in Mr. Mitchell’s class isn’t due for a while. I’ll be your partner. We can work together. I’ve done a lot of the work already. I’ll help you in the other classes too . . . please, Cindy,” Jamee begged. “Girl, you gotta go to school. ”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Cindy groaned. “Why you always tryin’ to tell me what I should do? If my mom don’t care, why should you?”
“Because we’re tight. That’s what friends do, right? When things were bad for me last year, you stuck with me, Cindy. When Bobby Wallace beat me up, you brought me here and helped me clean up so I could go home without my family knowin’ what had happened. ”
“That’s different,” Cindy said, shrugging her shoulders.
“No, it’s not. Now it’s time for me to help you,” Jamee replied. “Go change your clothes, and hurry up. We can still get there by the first bell. ”
Reluctantly, Cindy gave in. “Oh, okay. Anything to make you stop naggin’ me. But, I’m telling you, don’t count on me going tomorrow. ”
Cindy quickly washed, went into her bedroom and put on the jeans and the tank top that she had rediscovered the day before. Soon she and Jamee left the apartment building and headed towards Bluford.
As they reached the street, Cindy saw Harold Davis up ahead. She remembered the words his grandmother had said to her the day before. “You have the prettiest hazel brown eyes. ”
Walking to school silently with Jamee, Cindy worried about what her teachers would say about her many absences. She worried about her mother and what would become of her relationship with Raffie. But worse, she wondered if things between her and Mom would ever improve. Feeling a knot in her stomach, Cindy tried to push the worries from her mind. Again, Mrs. Davis’s words echoed in her mind. “Prettiest hazel-brown eyes. ”
Cindy knew the words could not solve her problems, but she held them close to her heart as she walked through the tall steel doors of Bluford High School.
Chapter 3
When Cindy arrived at English class, Mr. Mitchell fixed his gaze on her. “Miss Gibson,” he said, his voice seeming to catch on her last name. Cindy braced herself for criticism. “I need to see you after class. ”
Great, Cindy thought. I’m back in school two minutes, and I’m already in trouble! She knew he was going to lecture her for missing so much school. When Mr. Mitchell referred to a student as Mr. or Miss, it usually meant trouble.
During the entire class, Cindy worried. She kept looking at the clock, counting the minutes until Mr. Mitchell would yell at her. “Why did I let you drag me to school?” she whispered to Jamee towards the end of class. Jamee just shrugged.
When the bell finally rang, the room emptied quickly, leaving Cindy and Mr. Mitchell. He was wearing a checkered green tie and a red shirt that contrasted with his dark skin.
“Uh,” Cindy began, “I’m sorry I missed so much school, but see—”
“Excuse me, Cindy,” said Mr. Mitchell, leaning back and pushing his glasses up on his nose, “but when you came to Bluford, you indicated cartooning as one of your interests. The other day, I was looking at last year’s middle-school newspaper, and I found some of your work. It was great! You’ve got a lot of talent. So, I was thinking, the Bluford Bugler needs a cartoonist. What would you think of trying your hand at it?”
For an instant, Cindy turned numb. She had expected to be lectured, not offered a job. “Well . . . yeah, that’d be . . . I mean, sure, I’d love to do that,” Cindy stammered. She had always loved to draw, but lately, with all the problems at home, she had sort of abandoned it.
&n
bsp; “There’s just one condition—you can never miss a deadline. If you promise a cartoon and don’t deliver, you are off the paper. Are we clear on that?” Mr. Mitchell said crisply.
“Yeah, sure,” Cindy said.
“Okay then. After school go see Ms. Abbott. I already mentioned you to her. She’s eager to have you on the staff. Good luck, Cindy. ”
“Thanks!” Cindy said, stunned. It was the first time since she came to Bluford that she felt excited by something. She couldn’t wait to tell Jamee what had happened.
“Hopefully, I’ll be seeing more of you in my class in the future,” Mr. Mitchell added, as she walked towards the door.
Cindy nodded, knowing that he was referring to her poor attendance. “You will,” she said with a smile. “Thanks, Mr. Mitchell. ”
At lunchtime, Jamee and Amberlynn squealed with excitement when Cindy shared the good news with them.
“That’s great!” Jamee cheered. “One day, you’ll be famous. ”
“You go, girl!” Amberlynn cheered.
“I just hope they like my drawings,” Cindy said, feeling unsure of herself.
“Of course they will,” Jamee replied, reaching for her soda, then taking a quick sip. “This is the best news ever. ”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see your first cartoon in the school paper,” Amberlynn chimed in. “I’m gonna frame it. ”
Just then, Cindy noticed a boy across the lunchroom watching her. At first, Cindy wasn’t sure who he was—only that he was tall, with broad shoulders. But then she recognized his face.
“Is that who I think it is?” Cindy asked.
“Him?” Jamee said shaking her head. “That’s Bobby Wallace, the one who tried to turn me into a punching bag. ”
